Johnny Boy
by MultiFandomSF
Summary: -"There are no second chances." Only brutal truths. An A.U. one shot post-"Chuck vs. the Tic Tac." Chuck and Casey share a final conversation. Please review.


Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck.

Author disclaimer: I haven't written any fanfic in a long time, and as always, this was written at late hours, and I have few standards at such times. I hope you enjoy.

This is set post "Chuck vs. The Tic Tac" and functions as an A.U. after the General orders Chuck to escort Casey off of the premises.

* * *

They're on their way up Castle's steps, Casey in front, Chuck half-heartedly following behind, knowing there wouldn't be anything he could do should Casey try to jujitsu him back down the stairs.

Chuck is looking for words that aren't there. Something memorable, something sincere, something that John Casey would probably give a half snarl at, grit his teeth, and bear it. Something that would convey the gratitude, the strange brotherhood he felt.

The air feels heavy, the walk through concrete hallways stifling, every noise muffled. Chuck starts to talk, less because he has something to say, and more because he needs to say something.

"They're going...I'm sure they'll let you come back, you know—"

His voice is low, stumbling. Casey doesn't even have a harrumph to voice his dissatisfaction.

Chuck's brows are furrowed, conflict and tension, because it hasn't really hit him until now that's not fighting for a team, he's a spy, and he follows orders for the country. This is him, following orders.

"Casey, just give it a few days. Or—or go back to your daughter. That's good too, that's..."

He knows he sounds stupid. Casey's still striding in front of him, straight-backed, silent.

They're climbing the last set of stairs, making their way out of the freezer. The world seems deadened, their movements seem slowed.

They stop at the door to Orange, Orange, Chuck holding the little glass door open for Casey. Only then does Casey stop, turns his head to look at Chuck.

His glare seems less angry, more stoic. With such rigid posturing, Chuck doesn't know how to read him.

"Casey, I..."

Casey will no longer meet his gaze.

Chuck does his best impression of looking deep inside himself, looking for those inspiring words that Sarah never failed to give him, that his sister never ceased to deliver. He starts in with resolve, prepared to monologue something that will convey their bond and the conflict he feels, what Chuck feels Casey wants to hear.

"Casey, you're going to have a new life. You're going to meet your daughter...and whether you come back to all of this—it doesn't matter—"

"There are no second chances," Casey growls, quiet.

Chuck is taken aback, startled from any poetic reverie he hoped to establish.

"What? But—"

"There are no second chances," he says in halting speech. He is staring at the ground now, voice impassive.

"They're going to let me go. They're going to let me go home or wherever I choose to go. And a few hours from now, they're going to kill me."

Casey is emotionless. Chuck's staring at him, brows knit with confusion and some amount of horror, because this was nowhere in his mind.

"The C.I.A. doesn't let people go," he forces out, voice tinged with anger at a system he knows far too well. He lifts his eyes to glance at Chuck, then looks back over the sunny parking lot.

"It will be quick, and I won't see it coming."

"But—"

"There are no second chances." He says forcefully. That monotone conveys something other than brute force, something worse in Chuck's mind. Resignation.

"Casey, tell me what to do. We can fight this, don't leave now, they can't—"

"Chuck, it's over."

Chuck's whining now, practically pleading.

"No, no, that's not how this works. I'm going to go downstairs, and I'll get Sarah, and you'll go hideout, you'll go into hiding! You're John Casey! The John Casey! You know every trick in the book! You know every trick outside of the book—"

Rambling, rambling, Chuck can't shut off.

"Chuck!" Casey barks suddenly. Chuck snaps to attention, staring, quiet again.

"I'll do anything, just tell me what to do."

"It's over." His voice is a low grumble, devoid of anything resembling the fight Chuck wants. "This is the end."

He looks back to Chuck, who's frozen, always the deer in the headlights. Casey claps a hand to Chuck's shoulder. He gives him a smile that's more a shrug.

"Good luck."

The way he says it seems to say, he's done all he can. For Chuck that is.

"Goodbye."

Casey leaves Chuck standing frozen at the door to the Orange, Orange.

Casey can't help but think—he gave up everything for this.


End file.
